Skittles
by killer cereal
Summary: Yet another attempt to fix Brittana. With Arties help this time. Oneshot.


_I've not seen the Christmas episode just heard about it so this might not make sense in relation to the episode but you know what, I don't care. I have to fix this. Again. And I don't know what happened but Artie came off all sympathetic. I'm sorry about that.

* * *

_

Brittany waltzed into the Lopez household as she had done most days since she was five. In the kitchen she found Santana sitting at the counter with a bowl of skittles in front of her and her father on the other side of the counter preparing dinner.

"Hey BritBrit," he smiled at the blonde girl. "Long time no see."

"Hi Doc."

Santana smiled. It never stopped amusing her how Brittany always called her Dad, Doc. When Santana explained that Doc wasn't his actual name she shrugged and replied. "I know it's Dad but my Dad's called that too and it'd get confusing." Somehow Santana couldn't argue with that logic.

"How come you're home now?" Asked Brittany, well aware that Santana's father was at work, like, all the time.

"I've got a week off for Christmas," he beamed at her. "I have to work over Easter in return but for now, a whole week."

"Cool," she beamed back, having a very accurate idea of how much that would mean to Santana. Her gaze dropped to the skittles and her expression turned wistful as she stared at them. "That's not part of regulation Cheerio diet," she pointed out. "Coach will go crazy if she smells sweet, sugary goodness on you."

"I outrank Coach Sylvester," declared Santana's father.

Santana pushed the bowl over and Brittany grinned and grabbed a handful.

"You staying for dinner Britt?" Asked the Doc.

She looked over to Santana for permission, who had been suspiciously quiet up until now but Santana only gave her a hopeful half smile and left the decision up to her.

"Um, sure. Thanks," she smiled.

"How's Artie doing?" asked the Doc.

Santana rolled her eyes and shot him an incomprehensible look which her father had long ago learned to ignore.

"Artie? He's really happy, he's gone to stay at his grandma's showing off his rewalk to all his family."

Santana sighed and started sorting out the skittles into two piles. One with Brittany's favourite colours and the rest for her.

"We broke up."

Santana's hand froze over the collection of purple and red skittles. "What?" She said, her voice taught with anger.

"It's OK," explained Brittany gently, trying to pacify her fiery friend.

"He had the nerve to dump you, after you got him that rewalk thingy?"

"I didn't get it for him, Santa did."

"Whatever. That snivelling little weasel doesn't deserve it."

"Santana," said her father in a warning voice.

"The hell is his problem?" she snarled.

"It's OK," Brittany repeated patiently. "And he didn't dump me, we broke up. We talked and he was really nice about it and stuff. We both made the decision." She leaned over and nudged Santana's arm. "I can't believe you did that."

"Did what?"

"You know what."

"I'm uh, gonna pop to the store for... something... vital," muttered Santana's father, and left the domestic being acted out in the kitchen in a hurry.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Santana insisted with a frown. She looked away from the blonde and then back again. Then looked away and then back. Brittany was still staring at her with those god damned big blue eyes. "What?" she demanded.

"Nothing," said Brittany with a knowing smile and turned her attention to her share of the skittles.

_**Earlier that day...**_

"Britt, we need to talk," said Artie wheeling over to his girlfriend.

"Oh my god, are you breaking up with me?" Were Brittany's immediate thoughts, spoken aloud as usual.

"No."

"Have I done something wrong?"

"No."

"Did Santana threaten you again? 'Cos you know she doesn't mean it."

"No, listen." He took her hand in his and pulled her over in front of him. "There's nothing wrong OK. I just need to ask you something."

"Are you going to ask me to marry you?"

"What? No!"

"Oh. Just cos you're almost kneeling in front of me with being shorter and..." her voice quietened off as her stared at her with a perplexed expression on his face.

"Calm down, there's nothing wrong."

"Alright," she sat down in front of him. "It's just when you accused me of cheating on you with Mike this feels a bit like that."

Artie sighed, he was sorry about that and this had been bugging him, this was how he could make everything up to Brittany.

"I wanted to ask, if you know that… that..."

Brittany was staring at him, concentration etched all over her face as she listened carefully.

"Santana is in love with you."

Brittany laughed at his words then the smile froze on her face as Artie stared at her intently, seriously.

"No, she's not," she tried to explain. "She's just... um... why?"

He pushed his glasses up further onto his nose and took a deep breath.

"Britt, you're 16 and... there's no such thing as Santa Claus." Brittany's lip began to quiver. "I'm sorry."

"I know Santa's not real," she muttered sadly. "I'm not stupid." A tear trickled down her cheeks. "I believe in magic, Christmas magic."

"I know, I know," he tried to soothe her. "Santana got the rewalk from her Dad. Not for me, so I could walk, but for you. So you'd be happy."

She sniffed, thinking about his words. "Are you sure?"

"She didn't actually tell me out loud with words or even in writing but, I saw her looking at you when I was walking in the choir room and I'd bet my arms on it."

"So you don't know for sure if it was her?"

"I'd put my life on it."

Brittany gulped.

"Do you love her?" he asked cautiously.

She wiped her eyes with her sleeve and then nodded.

"That's cool," he said with a small smile. "I'm glad you told me the truth."

"I guess this means we're not together any more," she asked.

"Yeah, I guess." He grabbed her hands in front of him again and looked her straight in the eye. "I know you believe in magic and although Santa isn't really real, I think magic is."

She gave him a big watery beam and leaned over and kissed him on the cheek.

"Can we still hang out?" She asked him.

"I'd like that," he smiled.


End file.
